


How to Make a Great First Impression

by Rainne



Series: Thank-You Fics [5]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Multi, Not Canon Compliant, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 13:02:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4264173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainne/pseuds/Rainne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Step One: save someone's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to Make a Great First Impression

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jadzia_Bear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadzia_Bear/gifts).



> This fic is part of my Thank-You Fics, so called because they have been written as thank-you gifts to people who have donated to my mother's cancer fund, which is helping to pay for my mother's chemotherapy treatments and eventual surgeries.
> 
> If you would like to know more about my writing and my gift fics and how to get a Thank-You Fic of your own, please visit [this Tumblr post](http://rainnecassidy.tumblr.com/post/118466323344/please-help). Thanks.

After they find Bucky in Belarus, Sam and Steve bring him home to Brooklyn.  Sam helps Steve find a trauma therapist who can be trusted, and when Bucky unbends enough to talk to her, his process of healing begins.  It will be a long road, and he will never be the boy he was before, but the man he may become is and will always be Steve's best friend.

Slowly, they begin to rediscover the routines of day-to-day life in the city.  They live in the top floor apartment of a four-floor row house, and Steve makes it a point to get to know everyone else in the building, if for no other reason than to warn them that Bucky is just back from the war - he doesn't specify which one, and no one asks - and is likely to be a little jumpy and a little weird. 

The lesbians in the garden apartment, Jill and Danielle, understand completely. Danielle is a veteran herself, and she gives Steve's shoulder a firm squeeze and makes him promise to let them know if he needs help with anything at all.  The college students packed into the first floor apartment don't seem to care; Steve's pretty sure that if he was smoking that much reefer - _no, they call it weed now_ \- he wouldn't really care about very much, either.  

The elderly Black lady on the second floor, Mrs. Lucille, gives him a look of concern over a cup of chamomile tea. "Steven Grant Rogers," she says to him in the same tone his mother once used, "If you think I don't know who you are, and if you think I don't recognize your friend's name, and if you don't think I can put two and two together and come up with a pretty likely guess for what happened when you and that red-headed gal blew up D.C., then you've got a nasty shock coming to you."

Steve blushes. "No, ma'am," he says simply. "I guess you know exactly what happened."

She studies him with her piercing, dark eyes. "Well," she says. "I guess you think you know what you're doing."

"No, ma'am," Steve says again. "I'm actually pretty sure I don't. But I've got friends who know more than me, and they're helping me out.  He's got a therapist, and we're listening to her advice.  And he's not violent.  That's the important thing.  He's absolutely not violent, so I honestly don't think anyone has anything to worry about as long as you don't startle him or something."

She studies him carefully.  "Hmph," she finally says. "All right. But boy, you listen here.  You need help, I expect you to come and talk to me. You understand?"

He nods. "Yes, ma'am.  Danielle, downstairs, said the same thing."

She points a gnarled finger at him. "Danielle, downstairs, don't know the kind of things I know. You need help, you come to me _first._   Understand?"

Privately, Steve is fairly sure hell would freeze over unless the kind of help he needed was how to get his bread to rise properly, but he nods and says "Yes, ma'am," anyway, because she reminds him of his mother and that scares him into compliance.

It's probably good that he does this; following his chat with her, Mrs. Lucille comes up the stairs about once a week with baked goods for them.  After the first few weeks, Bucky speaks to her when she's at the door.  After the next few weeks, Bucky starts opening the door for her.  After a few more weeks, he invites her inside for a cup of coffee, and she beams at him and tells him he's a good boy.

The first year that they spend living together in the future is a quiet one, punctuated by twice-weekly visits from the trauma therapist and less frequent visits from the other Avengers.  Even Barton, who is mostly retired to his farm out West and his wife and kids, drops in occasionally, just to keep in touch.

And then one night, about ten o'clock, the fire alarm goes off.

It's not that Steve's entirely surprised - he did mention the amount of pot smoking that's happening in the first floor apartment, right? - but it's still a bit of a shock when they're flopped on the couch in their boxers watching _Dog Cops_ and eating Cheetos.  It's a testimony to how far Bucky's come that he doesn't immediately dive for a weapon or fall into a panic attack; they both freeze for a moment at the first blare of the alarm, and then they both scramble for pants and shoes.

At the third floor landing, where they can just barely smell the smoke, Bucky says, "Mrs. Lucille," and Steve knows exactly why he's said it. Mrs. Lucille fell two weeks ago and broke her leg.  They go for her door immediately, and Steve bangs on it.  

"Mrs. Lucille!" he calls out. "Mrs. Lucille, are you in there? Do you need help getting out?"

The door swings open, and Steve is face-to-face with a handsome young Black man who favors Mrs. Lucille in some ways.  Behind him is a young white woman with honey-blonde hair.  They're trying to balance Mrs. Lucille between them to get her out of the building.  Steve says, "Please, let me."

"Antoine," Mrs. Lucille says, "this is my upstairs neighbor, Steve Rogers.  Steve, this is my grandson, Antoine."

Steve catches the expression on Antoine's face and knows he's been recognized; he foregoes manners and shoulders the young woman aside, swinging Mrs. Lucille up into his arms in a bridal carry.  "Come on," he says. "I can smell the smoke, so we need to get outside."

Once they're out on the sidewalk, Danielle brings a lawn chair for Mrs. Lucille to sit in, and Steve is able to properly offer his hand to Antoine to shake.  Antoine takes it and gives him a smile. "Antoine Triplett," he says. "Pleased to meet you.  You knew my grandpa."

"I did?" Steve asks, surprised.

"Yeah.  His name was Gabe Jones."  He looks Steve up and down, holding his hand for maybe a bit longer than necessary.  "Grandpa said you were physically impressive, but he never said _how_ impressive," he continues, and Steve feels a flush start to crawl up his neck.  Antoine just grins at him and says, "Maybe you'd like to go get coffee sometime?"

Steve says, "I'd love to," and he means it, and he's honestly not hurrying to let go of Antoine's hand, either.

Just then, both of their attention is caught by a feminine giggle; they turn to look, and discover that Bucky is apparently finding his feet again, because he's flirting outrageously with Antoine's young lady friend.  Steve cocks an eyebrow, and Antoine grins. "Co-worker of mine," he says.  "She's cool.  Her name's Jemma.  I'll tell you all about her tomorrow when we go have that lunch."

"Lunch?" Steve repeats, cocking an eyebrow.  "I thought it was coffee."

"Did I say lunch?" Antoine replies, grinning smoothly. "I meant to say dinner and a movie, and maybe a walk in the park afterward."

Steve grins broadly. "Antoine," he says, "I think this might very well be the start of something special."


End file.
